be grown in North and South Dakota, it is not suitable for pasturage for cattle, on account of the bloat. On the other hand, sweet-clover pasturage seldom causes bloat, and may be regarded as perfectly safe, especially during a dry season. While sometimes during a wet year, farther south, sweet clover may cause bloat, that condition seldom prevails in the Dakotas. That fact alone will go a long way toward the growing of sweet clover instead of alfalfa, and sweet clover always means honey. Large Yields Are Not Always Secured Every Year.

While enormous individual yields of honey have been secured from sweet clover in North and South Dakota, it should not be understood that these same large yields are secured by every one in this land of promise; and neither should it be understood that every year is equally good for reaching the top notch in honey production. For instance, in 1922 the yield per colony was high. In 1923 the yield dropped down to but little better than 50 per cent of normalthe poorest season that has occurred in years.

It would be folly for the beekeepers of the country to be rushing up into the

'At some seasons of the year there is not enough moisture in the hive for the use of the colony, and worker bees carry water to the hive for immediate use, or in some cases to be deposited within the hive. Water is not stored in cells as is nectar, but may be placed on top-bars or in other places under some conditions. The gathering of water is more noticeable in the period of early spring brood-rearing and in hot weather than at other times. In certain bee cellars of quite high temperatures it is recorded that an uneasiness of the bees has been relieved by giving water in a feeder.

Several summers ago Mr. Demuth made an interesting observation in the apiary of the Bureau of Entomology. By mistake an entrance-reducing block had been pushed into the hive and was not noticed when the time came for these blocks to be removed. It closed the entrance too much during the hot weather of midsummer, so that the normal ventilation of the colony was impeded and evidently the temperature within the hive became too high. When this colony was

opened on a hot day in midsummer, it was noted that drops of some liquid were deposited on the frames, much in the manner of nectar when it is being brought to the hive during the rush of an exceedingly heavy honey flow. There was at this time a complete dearth of nectar. On tasting this liquid, it was found to be water, evidently brought to the hive to be evaporated and thus to reduce the temperature within the hive, since evaporation of water causes the absorption of considerable amounts of heat.

Bees Gather Least Amount of Water During Honey Flow.

In an interesting paper published by deLayens, the well-known French botanist and beekeeper, in the Bulletin d'acelim. de France for 1880, page 298, he shows that while considerable amounts of water are taken from a water reservoir in the apiary before the honey flow begins, this collection entirely ceases when nectar comes to the hive in considerable amounts. For example, on May 22, a total of three liters of water was taken from the reservoir, on the

next day this was reduced to one liter and steadily decreased until May 27 when the honey flow was well on, when no water was taken from the reservoir by the bees. In another series of observations he correlates the collection of water with the weight of honey gathered by the bees and finds a definite and close inverse correlation. For example, on July 15, the bees in his apiary took five liters of water from his reservoir while a strong colony in the apiary gained only 120 grams. There was a steady decrease in the amount of water taken and an equally steady increase in the nectar collected, until on July 19 no water was taken from the reservoir while the strong colony gathered 1.390 kg.

Another series of interesting observations are recorded by Gendot in L'Apiculteur for 1907, page 164. He noticed, as have many beekeepers, that bees collect water from compost heaps. To determine whether they are attracted by the character of the material which they may there collect or whether some other factor is involved, he made certain tests. He found that the standing water about the compost had a higher temperature than that of the surrounding air. He then set out in his apiary two reservoirs containing pure water, one at air temperature and the other somewhat heated. During the month of April the bees collected over 43 liters of water from the reservoir that was heated and only a little over 7 liters from that which was not heated.

He made proper allowances for extra evaporation of the heated water in that reservoir. Later on when the outer air became warmer, the bees visited one reservoir as much as the other. He also found that it takes a much longer time for a bee to take a load of cold water than of water that is somewhat heated. Several observations are quoted regarding the amount of water per colony that is taken by the bees and Gendot states that after heating the water, his colonies took an average of almost a half liter daily, most such observations being of smaller amounts per colony. Evidently bees will take enormous quantities of water in spring if it is conveniently placed, and it is safe to assume that they do not take it unless they need it.

Elimination of Water in Summer.

At times of a heavy honey flow large quantities of water arising from the evaporation of the excess water in nectar must be eliminated. Various analyses of nectar show that the water content varies greatly, and this is easily observed by any beekeeper. Some unripe honeys, or partly ripened nectar, are exceedingly thin, while in some cases nectar is brought to the hive in a condition of

thickness which resembles honey. In general, thick nectars are found in arid regions or in periods of warm weather, as one might expect, while thin nectars are found during early honey flows in spring. Nectars from some species of plants are almost always thin, while that from other species is usually thick.

This elimination of water from nectar not only influences the humidity within the hive but causes a large amount of work for the bees. The work which the bees are called upon to do varies greatly according to the outer temperature, since in cool weather the relative humidity of the outer air is usually higher, making evaporation more difficult, and furthermore the temperature of the hive must then be kept relatively higher than that of the outer air. Some nectars have a water content as high as 80%. If this is the case, to obtain 100 pounds of honey, which would contain about 20 pounds of water in the final product, the original nectar would weigh 400 pounds, which would consist of 80 pounds of sugar and 320 pounds of water. Of this vast amount of water, 300 pounds must be eliminated before the honey is ripe, or three times the weight of the resulting honey.

To transform water into water vapor requires a large amount of heat, namely, 535.9 small calories per gram of water, or enough to raise the temperature of the gram of water 535.9 degrees Centigrade. To evaporate the 300 pounds of water mentioned above would then require 72,923.664 large calories. On the assumption that the sole source of these heat calories is the food of the bees, it would require the consumption of over 49 pounds of honey to evaporate this water. It is evident that the bees must under some circumstances consume large amounts of honey to obtain the energy necessary for the evaporation of the excess water in nectar. This in turn causes the necessity for gathering more nectar to take the place of the honey consumed in this process. If it were not true that the external heat assists the bees greatly in this elimination of water, the honey crop would in some cases be greatly reduced.

The evaporation of the surplus water in nectar is one of the most interesting things in the hive behavior of the bees. There are still many undetermined points regarding this course of behavior, but generally the returning field bee does little toward this ripening but deposits its load in the first convenient place. This may be in the mouth of a young hive bee, in a cell of the brood-nest, even one containing an egg or a young on the bottom-bar of a larva, or even brood-frame. From this point on, the

ripening process probably depends on the work of the younger hive bees. They move it from place to place, often with no apparent purpose, but the outcome of their work is that the thin nectar is placed in cells so as to expose as much surface as possible, thus aiding evaporation. Evaporation is also increased in proportion to the movement of air over the exposed surface of the liquid, and the bees fan currents of air through the hive, even though it may be several stories high, and thus hasten evaporation. How this fanning becomes regular, in on one side and out on the other side of the entrance, is still one of the mysteries of bee life. Several investigators have studied the number of bees engaged in fanning at the entrance, and find that this number is in close relation to the amount of evaporation going on within the hive, so that it is evident that in the marvelcus division of labor within the colony, about the right number assume this task.

The exact relative humidity at various times and in various parts of the hive is still a subject needing investigation. Attempts have been made to determine this, but usually the instruments have not been kept at the temperature of the center of the brood-chamber, and since relative humidity and temperature are closely correlated, this failure leads to errors in conclusions. It is desirable to know to what extent the relative humidity of the hive is controlled and fairly constant, and whether this control, if there is any, extends to all parts of the hive, or whether it occurs only within the brood-nest. When Mr. Demuth and the writer were investigating conditions within the hive in winter, an effort was made to determine the relative humidity of the air within the cluster during the winter, but the instrument devised for this purpose failed to give satisfactory results. There seems to be a fairly constant relative humidity within the cluster area in winter, and under good conditions of wintering, this is not a saturated atmosphere. It may well be saturated in colonies that are wintering badly from lack of adequate protection or in cold cellars. Data are greatly needed on this subject for the active

season.

Absorption of Water by Honey. Honey has the power to take up moisture from a saturated atmosphere or one in which the relative humidity is high, while in an atmosphere of low relative humidity it gives off some of its moisture and becomes thicker. Various efforts have been made to continue evaporation after honey is extracted, and this practice seems to be common in some parts of the world. The practice of storing honey in large tanks in California probably

is beneficial in this respect. A recent paper by Waters of the Wellington, New Zealand, Biology Laboratory is of interest in this connection. He exposed honeys of various specific gravities to atmospheres of various relative humidities and noted the change in the specific gravity of the honeys. He finds that heavy honeys give off little moisture in dry atmospheres but attract relatively more moisture from a saturated atmosphere, while thin honeys part with moisture in a dry atmosphere but attract less moisture in a saturated atmosphere. The samples used attracted moisture from the saturated atmosphere much more quickly than they parted with it in a dry atmosphere, which indicates the necessity for great care in the exposure of honeys to the air after extracting. Fermentation of honeys, perhaps a year after extracting, is far more common than is usually supposed. Part of this may be due to the extracting of unripe honeys, but in all probability the greatest cause of this loss is the failure properly to protect the honey from excessive relative humidity while stored. The attraction of moisture from the atmosphere is more commonly observed in comb honey than in extracted honey, because the honey is readily diluted by absorption of moisture from the air, in spite of the wax capping. There is a common belief among beekeepers that honey thinned by the absorption of water from saturated air is one of the causes of the condition known as dysentery. There is no reliable evidence that this is the case, and the probable explanation of the prevalence of dysentery in cellars where the combs are damp and mouldy is that under such conditions the bees must generate much heat and must therefore consume more honey than in a good dry cellar of higher temperature.

These explanations of the source of the water vapor within the hive and the discussion of the laws which govern its elimination as vapor serve to show how intimately the behavior and welfare of the colony are connected with this problem and show conclusively that there is great need of further investigations on this subject. It will require the devising of special scientific apparatus and the taking of records over considerable periods of time, for without long observations the records will be of almost no value but will merely complicate an already confused subject. It is clear from what has been said that enormous quantities of water must be given off from the colony at all seasons of the year, chiefly of course during the period when nectar is being ripened. That this may leave the hive in the form of water vapor, it must be carried out in an atmosphere

which at all times is kept warm enough so that condensation may not occur. During the colder seasons of the year this requires heavy insulation.

The elimination of water from the hive in winter, the gathering of water for the regulation of temperature and the evaporation of water from nectar are

a

examples of the necessity for a study of the physical conditions within the hive. All of these phenomena follow wellknown physical laws, and the solution of many of the problems in beekeeping rest in a proper understanding of such laws.

Washington, D. C.

Once upon a time,

young Austrian set out for America to seek his fortune. He had heard and believed tales of the

wonderful opportunities there and his heart was full of hope. But Joe, for that is his true name, found himself at the end of his eighth year in this country, settled, apparently for life, in a shoe factory in St. Louis. He himself could not have told just how it happened. In the old country he had followed agricultural pursuits, and being shut up all day in a room filled with machinery and the smell of leather suited neither his temperament nor his accustomed mode of life. Even the hordes of men who worked there appeared to be exact counterparts of one another. They did the same work, ate the same kind of food and even cracked the same old jokes, mostly at the expense of poor Leo, who was "bugs on bees."

Leo had five stands, or colonies, of honeybees, and if talk could have multiplied them, he would have had a million. His incessant discourse, like the noise of the machinery, became a part of the daily routine, and if by accident he stopped for a moment the boys would start him off again with "Well, Leo, how are those king bees coming on?''

Joe listened, but not from choice. He barely glanced at the copy of Gleanings Leo triumphantly produced to prove some point in his argument. "What was the use of publishing a magazine on bees so long as Leo could talk?" Joe wanted to know.

Meanwhile he grew more and more discontented. His days were passed in vain endeavors to reduce the huge stacks of soles and uppers waiting to be fitted into the finished shoe, and his sleeping hours were a nightmare of boots with heavy soles and wicked nails. So when a letter came from a cousin in California, Joe answered it in person and secured a job there as ranch manager.

Here was opportunity "like what he had heard about." Here were good black dirt, modern equipment and an adequate irrigating system, and Joe immediately

began planning to secure some land of his own to build up a home and competency for himself and his family. He became a constant reader of the real estate advertisements in the daily papers and that is how he chanced to see "Bees for sale!"'

Joe Launches into the Bee Business.

Joe remembered Leo and laughed, then grew thoughtful as from the depths of his subconsciousness arose his friend's glowing accounts of fabulous yields of honey and how fortunes could be made "if a man only had capital."

Anyhow, it would do no harm to have a look at the bees. Only one colony remained, and the owner explained that, too, had to go to comply with a new ordinance prohibiting bees inside the city limits. He further explained that for $20 he was willing to "sacrifice" this choice colony reserved especially for himself. Knowing nothing about bees or their market value, Joe would quite as readily have paid $50. As it was he paid out an extra dollar to have the colony inspected by a reputable beeman, making a total of $21 for a colony of bees in a three-story eight-frame hive.

While making his new possession comfortable beneath the shade of a fruit tree, he received his initiatory sting without abatement of enthusiasm. Neither was he disturbed when neighbors dropped in one by one and casually informed him that he had been stung on the price; that swarms were worth only about a dollar; that he "couldn't do nothing with bees nohow" as the county was rotten with foul brood; that one man had lost 1500 colonies from disease; and, as a clincher, that the county had no inspector nor inspection laws. Apparently beekeeping was at its lowest ebb. He Wants to See a Case of Foul Brood.

Joe listened patiently and concluded that, if it would ever pay him for "fooling with bees," he must first get acquainted with foul brood. So he set out on a still hunt to locate his enemy. Every glimpse of a beehive would bring his Ford automatically to a standstill, but no

one would show him foul brood, much less admit having it. At last he came to a strange sight. A tall man was carrying objects from beehives and dropping them into a large cylinder which was belching smoke and flame. On closer inspection Joe found these objects were frames of honey and bees, and he watched until the entire lot was disposed of, hives and all. The tall man explained that he was exterminating foul brood, and showed him the dead larvae and other symptoms of the disease. But Joe had somehow acquired a Government bulletin on the treatment of foul brood, and he inquired if the disease might not be cured by treating instead of destroying the colonies. The tall man admitted it could be done, but that his own was the surer method.

Joe was now more eager than ever to manipulate sick colonies even if he had to buy them. His ad brought results and eight stands were purchased at a dollar and a half each, empty hives to be returned to the owner. Others soon learned of the transaction and another eight colonies were bought on the same terms. His third purchase was a stack of empty hives, the colonies long since having died from disease, much to the disgust of Mrs. Joe when she saw him driving into the yard with "such a pile of junk." From this lot he secured 30 twostory hives for only about $40 during the peak of the war time prices.

Acquires Title of Foul Brood Stutz.

By this time Mrs. Joe was becoming reconciled to the odor of boiling wax, slumgum and scorched wood, but her humiliation knew no bounds when they were stopped while driving through town by a rough-looking man who wanted to know if Joe was the guy that bought foul brood." All the beemen were laughing at him. Even the youngsters referred to him as "foul brood Stutz,'' not because he scattered the disease but because he bought it, actually paid good money for it. One beeman said he was crazy to buy foul brood when he had just burned up 12 colonies he might have had for the asking.

But Joe laughed last and best that fall when the newly-appointed county bee inspector, who lived within contamination distance of Joe's foul brood purchases and was correspondingly anxious, O. K'd 21 healthy one-story colonies. Making One Apiary Flourish Where Several Existed Before.

The following spring Joe continued on the same plan and with the addition of 14 diseased colonies, together with extractor, settling tank and uncapping box, etc., for $100, he increased to 45 colonies from which he harvested 6800

pounds of honey. At 10 cents a pound the crop brought a sum sufficient to pay for all apiary outlay up to that time.

The second year the yard was increased to 75 colonies.

The third year, with an apiary of 95 colonies and a crop of four tons, Joe made the first payment on his own little block of Mother Earth. He had also made two valuable discoveries: First, that foul brood troubles were traceable to individual colonies standing around in orchards, and to carelessness or neglect on the part of larger apiarists. Second, that a gentleman farmer has no business with bees. It is a man's job and a dirty job that requires old clothes and sleeves rolled up.

The present and fourth year, the bees produced a substantial payment toward the well and pumping system on Joe's

Joe Stutz, Chico, Calif., is locally known as "Foul Brood Stutz.'' His greatest delight is finding and cleaning up American foul brood.

seven-acre ranch. Nor has Joe neglected the theoretical side of beekeeping. He was an earnest student at the Government bee school recently held in Berkeley, and he is always to be found in every movement that is beneficial to the industry. More than all this, he finds time to play with his family.

It was a long way from "boots to bees' but the progression was logical from the foot to the head of his craft. And he is perfectly willing for someone to boot him if he is ever found with(Continued on page 53.)